The Ripper
by TeamFreeWillAngel
Summary: Summary: Someone is targeting cops. Mycroft is worried that his D.I. will be next. Mainly Mystrade with very light Johnlock.
1. Prologue

The Ripper

Summary: Someone is targeting cops. Mycroft is worried that his D.I. will be next. Mainly Mystrade with very light Johnlock.

Prologue

The sounds of his own panting and his heart beat was all he could hear as he raced down the quiet street. He wasn't in London anymore, he knew that for sure. He just didn't know where exactly he was. Hell, he could barely remember his own name. All he knew about himself was that he was a cop. The badge and gun on his person told him that much. And his name was in his mind because he could hear it, at least he assumed it was his name.

"Greg." A creepy, yet soothing voice whispered. "Greggie. Come out and play. I don't bite...much."

Greg kept running. His heart was pounding as bullets whizzed past im. He dove into an alleyway, hiding behind a dumpster. He squeezed his eyes closed.

He didn't want to see his killer when he shot him.


	2. Chapter 1

**3 Days Ago**

Molly Hooper was just finishing her examination of a young woman when D.I. Greg Lestrade walked in, followed behind by Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. She looked up at Sherlock with a gleam in her eyes and a small smile on her face. She was madly in love with the younger of the Holmes brothers, but he wouldn't give her the time of day.

"Ms. Hooper." Lestrade said, looking at the young mortician.

"Molly." John said. Sherlock just walked past her and went to the body. Molly watched him.

"She was a policewoman." Molly said. Lestrade closed his eyes for a second. He didn't know her personally, she was mainly a desk jockey in a different division, one that wasn't his, but every time a cop died, it hit Greg in the heart.

"How'd she die?" John asked. Before Molly could answer, Sherlock spoke up.

"The bruises on her neck say strangled. There's yellow plastic fibers under her fingernails that say it was caution tape. The severe bruising says that she struggled." He explained. He walked around, examining the body. Lestrade's phone chirped then. He looked down at it.

**How's your day going? -MH**

Lestrade smiled. Mycroft always tried to text him before his morning meetings started. They'd even try to call when they can. John watched the small smiled that appeared on the Detective Investigator's face. He knew he was talking to his own Holmes brother, and that one could function a little better with people then his own.

**At the morgue with your brother.**

He didn't have a little signature on his and he knew that it annoyed Mycroft to no end. But he did it anyway because he just felt like too much of a show off. That being said, he received another text quickly, but it wasn't from the Holmes he hoped.

**Do you mind paying attention to the case instead of flirting with my brother? -SH**

Lestrade looked over at him. John was holding the phone, no doubt being forced to type for Sherlock as he examined the body with his little magnifying glass. He shrugged an apology to Lestrade. Quickly, he typed out a text to Mycroft.

**Your brother summons me. I'll see you at home tonight.**

He pocketed his phone and stood behind Sherlock and watched him. He didn't understand why he was so grouchy about him flirting with his brother. It wasn't like he ever asked Lestrade to assist him. He always treated him like an idiot anyway.

"I have all I need." Sherlock said. "I don't understand why you called me out of my bed. This is barely a five. I only leave for a seven."

"Sherlock." John whispered in a harsh tone. Sherlock sighed. John was trying to train him to be more considerate of people, but it was in his nature to treat them like they were all inferior.

"It's alright John." Lestrade said. "She's just the third cop who's been killed in the past week."

"A serial cop killer? How interesting." Sherlock said with a smile. Sometimes, Lestrade worried about him. It was a little creepy how giddy he got when it came to serial killers. No matter how close he got that family, he would never understand how Sherlock's mind worked.

"Yeah, well, I need to go do the paperwork on this." Lestrade said. His phone chirped for a third time but he hadn't answered because he knew Sherlock would judge him.

"Sounds like my big brother is anxious to talk to you." Sherlock said. "Alert me if there's any more occurrences." With that, he had vanished, like a vampire. John was quick to follow him. Lestrade looked down at his phone finally. There were three messages from Mycroft.

**I'm sending a car. -MH**

Lestrade set in the back of a nice sedan next to Mycroft's secretive assistant, Athena. She was typing away at her keyboard, alerting her boss to their arrival. Lestrade kept his gaze locked at the tinted windows as they drove to Mycroft's place of business. Sometimes, if it was an emergency, Mycroft would be in the car. But he wasn't, just Athena. So it must've not been an emergency this time.

"Did Mycroft say why he wanted to see me?" Lestrade asked. Athena didn't even look up from her phone.

"He just said it was of grave importance that he meet you for lunch." She said. Lestrade smiled. Mycroft was always telling the station of some emergency police issue so that he could whisk his boyfriend off for lunch for at least an hour. Soon, they were at a large building where Mycroft did most of business from. Lestrade left the car and walked into the building. Athena led him to Mycroft's office. He was on the phone.

"All right. Keep me posted." Mycroft said. He hung up then. "Greg!"

"Hello, luv." Lestrade said, walking in. Mycroft motioned for Athena to shut the door. "So, what brings me here today?"

"Why didn't you tell me there have been three cops targeted and killed?" Mycroft asked, sounding a little upset. Lestrade raised his hands in defense.

"Where'd that come from?" Lestrade asked. "And did Sherlock tell you?"

"I'm the government Greg. I know everything." Mycroft said. "And I also realize that the murders are happening closer to where your old patrol was."

"I'm fine." Lestrade said, placing his hand over Mycroft's. "Nothing's going to happen."

"I'd feel better if you took some time off and went with me to America." Mycroft sighed. Lestrade smiled softly.

"I know." He leaned across Mycroft's desk and gently kissed him. Mycroft couldn't help but smile. No matter how mad he was, Lestrade's kisses made everything a little better, even if they both knew there was something wrong.

"So you'll go with me?"

"I can't." Lestrade said. "We've got a serial killer on the loose."

**So how's the first actual chapter? Should I keep going? Please review!**


	3. Chapter 2

After saying his goodbyes to Mycroft, Lestrade headed back to Scotland Yard, where security was a lot stronger than it had been a couple hours prior. Lestrade wasn't sure of what had happened until he walked inside and saw the charred remains of his office. He was just thankful that he didn't keep anything of value there. And no one had been seriously hurt. Just everyone scared and a few minor injuries.

"What the hell happened?" Lestrade asked. He ran up to Sally, who was doing minor triage on someone.

"Someone sent you a message." Sally said. Lestrade looked over at his office. A black box was sitting there. He wasn't sure if it was black from being charred or black because of paper.

"Who the hell would do such a thing?" Lestrade asked. He saw a black envelope on Sally's desk. It must've come with the package. He picked it up and examined it. His name was written on the front in a blood red, embossed font. The letter was sealed with a skull. He looked over at Sally. She was looking at him.

"Are you going to open it?" She asked, fear obvious in her voice.

"Might as well." He said. He carefully opened the envelope. Sally stood by his side with a hand over her mouth, in case the letter had been laced with poison. But instead, rose petals fell out. But there was something wrong with them. Sally shrieked.

"They're covered in blood!" She screamed. Lestrade thought he was going to be sick. This had to be the blood of one of the cops that had been murdered.

Things were starting to get out of control real fast.

"Bloody rose petals?" John asked as Lestrade paced 221B Baker Street. Scotland Yard had sent him home early but he didn't want to go to Mycroft. For one, his boyfriend had meetings and such and it'd probably be hours before he got to see him anyway, and two, it would just make him worry that much more and he didn't want to turn his red hair grey prematurely. "Who would send you those?"

"A jilted lover?" Sherlock suggested. "Your ex wife perhaps."

"She's the one who left me." Lestrade snapped. "She has no damn reason to be mad."

"Well, you've pissed someone off." John said. "Does Mycroft know about this yet?"

"He knows about the three cops, but he's sure to find out about the bomb and the petals before I have a chance to tell him. He monitors me." Lestrade set down.

"Want some tea?" John asked.

"No thanks." Lestrade said with a sigh.

"Whiskey then?" He asked. Lestrade nodded. John went and fetched the almost empty bottle out of the fridge and fixed Lestrade some. His phone chirped as he was fixing it. John glanced at it.

**Is Greg there? –MH**

John sighed and quickly typed out a message.

**He's trying to clear his head. It's been a rough day.**

He pocketed his phone then went to the sitting room. Mrs. Hudson had come in then and offered the shaken inspector one of her famous cookies. He gratefully took it and munched on it. He, like the boys of 221B, could not deny Mrs. Hudson anything.

"I guess I should head home." He said. "My's probably worried about me. Surprised he hasn't texted me a million times."

"Be safe." John said. He noticed that Sherlock had been unusually quiet. But he realized it was because his eyes were glued to his microscope. John sighed.

"I'll try." Lestrade said. He left then. John looked at Sherlock then.

"What? Not even going to say anything to him? Tell him to keep safe?" John asked.

"This is a rare type of rose petal." Sherlock said. "It's called a Grey Pearl. Typically found in Southern California."

"So whoever sent the bomb wasn't from the UK?" John asked. "Then how the hell did they know Greg?" Sherlock looked up at him, not quiet use to hearing the inspector called by his first name.

"They're also AB blood type." Sherlock said.

"So someone from Southern California, probably from the Los Angeles or San Diego area, with AB blood, is trying to kill Greg Lestrade. But why? And why target lower cops first? Why not just go straight after him?"

"They're sending a message." Sherlock said. "They're trying to show him that if a worker ant of a cop can be smashed out, then an investigator will be no problem either." Sherlock looked at John, his grey eyes darkening and sending chills down his back. "No one is safe."

**So how is this chapter? I really hope people out there are liking it! Please review**


	4. Chapter 3

Lestrade drove to his and Mycroft's flat in the rain. Lightning lit up the sky, making the grey clouds glow a brilliant purple. He allowed himself to relax a little bit as he watched the natural phenomenon continue. After the day he had, it was nice to see Mother Nature want to destroy some things and recreate some. He parked his car in the space in front of Mycroft's elegant building and walked in. It reminded him slightly of the building he had visited in New York, the Dakota, where he visited John Lennon's last home.

It had an eerie feeling to it. Everything was antiqued and pristine. Lestrade never felt comfortable there. He was rough around the edges and use to the lower class flats and houses in England, not the ones that the government worker could afford. Lestrade felt like all the neighbors were always staring at him, judging him. He wished that, instead, he was in one of Mrs. Hudson's flats. She was a lot nicer then these people. The only downside was he'd be just down the hall from Sherlock, which would mean sleepless nights as he shot at the wall.

He took the lift up to their flat and unlocked the door. The sitting room was lightly dimmed. Greg set down to take his Converse off when a voice echoed throughout the flat.

"There was a bombing." Mycroft said. Lestrade jumped. He hadn't even seen his boyfriend when he walked in, and now he was making his presence known. "There was a bombing at your office, in your office, and you didn't even call me. I was worried sick!"

"My." Lestrade said. Mycroft set down by him.

"Until I called and Donovan talked to me, I didn't even know if you had been there or not. All I could think about was you dying and…" He looked Lestrade in the eyes. "Do you even realize how hard that is?"

"I'm sorry My." Lestrade said. He laid on the couch and rested his head on Mycroft's lap. Mycroft ran his fingers through Lestrade's silver hair. Lestrade closed his eyes and hummed softly as Mycroft held him.

"I can't lose you." He whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too My." Lestrade said. "I promise I'm okay."

"I'll be the judge of that." Mycroft said. He leant down and kissed Lestrade gently. Lestrade closed his eyes and moaned softly. Mycroft smiled.

"So, do you think I'm okay?" Lestrade asked. Mycroft set there a moment, acting like he was deep in thought.

"I think I should get a second opinion. How about we go to the bedroom?" Mycroft winked at Lestrade. Lestrade's cheeks burned a bright red. While he was at the station, he could make innuendos with the best of them, but when he was with Mycroft, he was reduced to a giggling schoolgirl. All Lestrade could do was nod and take Mycroft's hand as they walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

It was one in the morning when Lestrade's phone started playing "I Fought the Law", this version by the Clash. It was his ringtone for work. He had specialized ringtones for everyone, even Sherlock, who rarely called unless he absolutely needed something.

"Let it go to voicemail." Mycroft said, wrapping his arms around Lestrade. But it just kept ringing. It soon changed over to Sally's ringtone of "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" by Pat Benatar.

"I have to answer it." Lestrade sighed. He grabbed his phone and pressed talk. "Lest…" He was cut off before he could even finish his own name. He set up quickly, his eyes wide. "What?!" Mycroft set up and looked at him.

"Greg? Honey, what's wrong?" Mycroft asked.

"I'll be there in five minutes. Don't call anyone else, because word will get around to Sherlock and he'll throw a cupcake party." Lestrade hung up the phone and jumped out of bed, pulling his clothes on. Mycroft watched him.

"Honey, what's going on?" He asked. Lestrade looked at him.

"Anderson's in the hospital. Someone put a bomb in his flat. It blew up as he was going to unlock his front door." Lestrade said as he pulled on his pants. Mycroft threw off the covers and got out of bed.

"I'm going with you." He said. Lestrade looked at him.

"You have work in the morning. I'll be fine." Lestrade said. He gently kissed him.

"I don't want you to go out there alone. Someone's targeting you, I know they are. And I'll be damned if I let you die on me." Lestrade sighed and looked at Mycroft.

"Get your clothes on."

Sally was pacing the waiting room with several of the other members of Lestrade division, whatever it may be. Mycroft walked with Lestrade to the waiting room. They all looked up at him when he walked in.

"How is he?" Lestrade asked.

"They're treating him for burns now." Sally explained. "He broke his left arm in three different spots and busted his head open. Three other people in his building have been brought in for minor injuries. The whole building has been evacuated."

"Why attack Anderson?" Lestrade asked as he paced. Sally's eyes followed him. The rest of them were all thinking exactly what she was.

It was to get to Lestrade.

"I'll have the best doctors help Mr. Anderson." Mycroft said, pulling Sally's attention away from his boyfriend. "He'll be in good hands."

"Thank you Mr…." Sally said, never having met him before, so she wasn't sure who he was.

"Holmes. Mycroft Holmes." Sally's eyes darkened some. She wanted to say something about the elder Holmes, how they didn't need their family's help anymore, but she knew better right now. He was going to make sure that Anderson got the help he deserved.

"Thanks." She said coldly. Lestrade looked at her.

It was going to be a long night.

**Sorry for the delay. I have a bunch wrote but actually forgot I had put this on here. I hope people like it still!**


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